


The World Stands Still (For You)

by MyrenJaceSkelton_Lucky13



Category: Across the Universe - Fandom, Fallout 4, Labyrinth
Genre: "It's Hoggle! And don't say I didn't warn you!", "No one can blame you... For walking away.", 'Virgins', Alternate Realities, Anal Sex, Beatles References, Danté Dies in Second Reality, Danté has a Soft Side, Danté is a Bit of an Asshole, Drug Use, Experimentation, F/F, F/M, Feline Dies in First Reality, Feline has Some Spice in Her Attitude, Feline is Such a Lovesick Teenager, First time with a man, First time with a woman, Fluff & Angst, M/M, MacCready Falls Head over Heels in Both Realities, Oral Sex, Sexual Tension, Short Busty Female SS, Tall Lanky Male SS, When Dimensions get the Best of You
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-14
Updated: 2017-05-14
Packaged: 2018-10-31 18:10:55
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 8,989
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10904691
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MyrenJaceSkelton_Lucky13/pseuds/MyrenJaceSkelton_Lucky13
Summary: There are times at which we feel all alone in the universe.  Are we though?  Other times, it seems, we can't get enough of who we travel with, whether or not the obsessions are healthy.





	1. Golden Slumbers

**Author's Note:**

> First of all, before I say much else, praise goes to Cacomagen for inspiring me with their Any Way but BacK (I'm not assuming gender). I've read it almost four straight times in the past two weeks.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Danté wakes up to a ruined world, lost and confused. MacCready gets a new boss.

When I finally awoke from my bicentennial slumber, it was like being caught in a nightmare. My body felt like it was burning, I could've _sworn_ I'd heard my skin sizzling. Then again.. I _had_ been frozen for who _knows_ how long, and I was probably still thawing out.

  
I'd stumbled into the pod. _Her_ pod. How could I go on living? Feline, the woman I had loved for what felt like my entire _life_ , was dead.

•••

Three months have passed since I crawled out of that damned Vault. I'm at a bar in an old town I had known from before.. before the world had died. The Third Rail is pretty crowded, right now; mostly just drifters hooting and clapping at Magnolia as she sings from the stage.

  
And here I am, sprawled across an old couch, drinking my sorrows away with White Chapel Charlie's less than savory beer, when I hear talking coming from somewhere behind me. I'm too drunk and stubborn to get up straightaway, so I lazily look around; the conversation is coming from the back room, an argument, it sounds like. I groan, forcing myself to stand up, gripping the couch as I stumble, then pad into the room.

  
"I don't take orders from you, not anymore." a man in a torn up duster says. "So, why don't you take your _girlfriend_ and get out of here, while you still can."

  
Another man, dark-skinned and wearing a bandanna over his mouth, seems to take offense to this, " _What?!_ Winlock, tell me we don't have to listen to this shit."

  
The other man, Winlock, grunts and snarls something at him, but at this point, honestly, I'm not listening. I suddenly find my interest piqued by the scrawny man in the duster.

  
_Why is my heart beating so fast?_ Must be the tension in the air _._ I look him over.

  
His duster's _bound_ to have seen better days, it's missing a sleeve, and the coattails have tears and holes in them. His hat has eight points, and a band with two bullets tucked into one end; I raise an eyebrow at that. His pants seem to be _just_ a tad loose around his calves, and his left pants' leg has four bullets, this time.

  
"Look, pal.. if you're preaching about the Atom, or looking for a friend, you've got the wrong guy. If you need an extra gun.. _then_ , maybe we can talk." he seems a bit impatient, as I almost trip over myself, lost in thought.

  
I hesitate. "Maybe. Why don't you tell me who those guys were, first." I'm genuinely curious.

  
"A couple of idiots looking to climb over others on the ladder to success. Shouldn't be surprised, though. That's how it goes, when you run with the Gunners."

  
"You're talking like I'm supposed to _know_ what you're talking about.." I slur, teetering a little as I cock my head to one side.

  
He grimaces, as if he's said too much. "Maybe it's _better_ that you don't. I don't want the stink of them rubbing off on me. No one wants to touch me once they learn I used to run with the Gunners. Maybe I should just learn to keep my big mouth shut."

He quickly changes the subject, offering to watch my back for 250 caps. I talk him down to 200.

"You drive a hard bargain, but you've just bought yourself an extra gun. Alright, Boss. Let's get out of here." he smiles, and again I feel my heart rate picking up.


	2. Fade Into You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> MacCready isn't sure how he feels about Danté helping out BOS Spuad Gladius. More confusing feelings pass between them.

"You're really sure you want to help these guys out, Danté? These guys are _total_ assholes." I've always hated the Brotherhood of Steel, ever since they had tried to infiltrate Little Lamplight. They'd even had this kid, Maxson, attempt to do the honors for them. I'd thought nothing of him, but _apparently_ he was now an Elder.

  
"I need this. These ' _assholes_ ' could be my _only_ way to get Shaun back." he scratches the back of his neck, betraying the same skittish doubtfulness he has when he knows he's doing something stupid.

  
"Hey, you hired _me_ to watch _your_ back; I'm just trying to look out for you." I quip.

  
He nods, and I notice his jawline. It's strong, but fine, the distinguishing features are small and angled. My eyes follow a long, raised scar starting on the edge of his jaw and ending just below his temple. His right brow is scarred, the thin line running from above the brow itself to below his eye. _What had done that?_

  
I shake my head, forcing those thoughts away, and he gestures for me to follow him. "Where are we going?" I ask.

  
"Red Rocket. Close enough for Garvey to tell me who needs to be helped, but far enough from my old home, far enough from that damn _Vault_." he replies. _Oh yeah_.. I think to myself, following close behind him. _He's the General of the Minutemen, and an ex-Vault Dweller._

•••

We've been traveling pretty much all day, and the sun is setting as we hunker down in an old tumbledown shack, enjoying light and easy chatter.

  
Suddenly I find myself thinking back to how Danté had helped me so much, despite the fact he hardly knew me. He'd helped me kill my former commanders. He'd done so much for me in what little time we'd been traveling together. I think back to the way he had backed Winlock into a corner, and beaten him to death, pummeling him until his face was just a spatter of gore on his fists. He'd looked back at me, then, of all things to do, he _grinned_.

  
"I've got the need.." he mutters, tearing me from my thoughts. He trails off, almost dramatically, and I realize he's been talking the whole time I was studying him. I furrow my brow, shaking my head, trying my best to listen to him. I throw him a quizzical look, and his eyes light up. "The need for Creads!"

  
"What the fu.. what the _frick_ are you talking about?" I don't mean to yell. I feel a light flush warming my face.

  
"What, you've never heard of video games?" Danté almost looks offended, his hazel blue eyes searching mine. "It was my _favorite_ game. _Need for Speed_. It was a street racing game. You'd race against your friends in these fucking _sweet_ cars, and whoever won got the highest score. They even made a movie about it, but that wasn't _nearly_ as good as the game itself."

  
I'm far beyond understanding this. _Video games? As in.. like the holotapes on his Pip-boy? Not only that, but with_ working _cars?_ He flicks on the light on the contraption, flooding the room in a mesmerizing shade of blue. It lights up his face a bit, and he opens up our packs, pulling out a couple sleeping bags.

  
"C'mon, Creads.. we should turn in for the night." he mutters softly. He unzips one, stripping down to his boxers. I can't help but notice the relatively light muscle tone lining his now shirtless body. My eyes trail from his biceps, to his pectorals, down to his abs. _What the fuc_ … heck _am I doing?!_ I fidget with the other sleeping bag, trying desperately to distract myself.

  
I take off everything but my undershirt and trousers; too cold to strip down further. As I get the bag open enough to crawl inside, I notice Danté scooting his closer to mine. I look at him, furrowing my brow. "It's cold, is all." he explains sheepishly, a faintly pink blush coming on the bridge of his nose.

I shrug, and settle in, but when I manage to get comfortable, I realize I have my head on his shoulder. He doesn't seem to mind. His light brown hair is soft as the strands fall lightly over my face, tickling my nose. I yawn, arching my back in a catlike manner. Sleep finally takes me, and I dream of long, soft brown hair, and hazel blue eyes.


	3. Tonight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Danté and Creads' first time.

I wake to a familiar warmth, and something draped across my stomach; my hair is a mess. As I pull my hand lazily through the long locks, I notice MacCready's face is nestled companionably into my back. And his arm, I realize, is what is slung over me. I'm contemplating whether or not to rouse him, when I hear him talking lightly in his sleep.

  
I move my head closer, and he murmurs something into my ear, sending shivers down my spine. "N-no.. don't make... Don't make me go." I'm about to wake him when he curls his arm a little, inadvertently tugging me closer to him. "Dan.. Danté, no, _please_..."

I'm surprised, both at the situation and at the sudden hard-on I'm getting. I'm honestly not sure whether I should be embarrassed or proud of the arousal between my legs. I scoot in closer to him, and he smiles sleepily, arching his back so he's snuggled further into me.

  
My boner is _throbbing_ , now, bulging almost painfully against my boxers. MacCready shifts his leg, pushing it between my thighs, and I just get harder. He finally wakes up, a rosy flush coming into his face.

  
I'm starting to panic.   _What am I so scared of?_   I shake my head, pushing the thoughts away and clearing my throat.  "Uh.. MacCready?" He hums in response.  "Are you comfortable... with this?"

He audibly gulps, nodding, face cracking into a relatively nervous, yet reassuring smile. "I'm comfortable with it, if you are, Danté." he says.

  
I think about it, then shift into a more comfortable position within the sleeping bags, my cock at full mast.

  
He reaches down suddenly, seeming to have noticed my raging hard-on, and strokes it from outside my boxers; I feel an all too familiar wetness spreading from the tip to the crotch of my underwear, my eyes widening. I groan in response.

  
" _Ahh_.. you sure you know what you're..." I feel like a goddamn _teenager_ again, being touched for the first time, _wanting_ to be the one touching. He's simultaneously stroking my throbbing bulge _and_ mouthing my ear. " _Guhh_.. you sure you really want this?" I moan.

He nips my lobe in response, and struggles with the task of pulling off my boxers, and I lift my midsection up off the floor, MacCready making a dissatisfied noise at being dislodged.

  
"Don't worry, Creads. Just a moment." I assure him, fumbling to get my underwear off. I finally manage to pull it past my legs, and I can tell he's growing more and more impatient with each passing moment, because he uses his feet to yank them the rest of the way off, huffing in frustration.

  
He reaches up, pulling me back down under the covers. I groan, fully hard. As I settle down, finding a comfortable position, I realize MacCready's already freed himself of his undershirt and trousers, stroking himself. I remove his hand from his crotch, interlacing our fingers, and put my free hand on him, tracing a finger along his dick, from the base, up along the shaft, and tease the tip, stroking for a moment. I let go of him, and run my index finger along his taut ribs, then up his clavicle, and I pinch his nipple, earning an ecstatic gasp from him.

  
"Honestly, women should do that more often.. _ohh_... we're sensitive too, not just them." He whispers softly. I lift my head, gazing into those brilliant blue eyes. He stares back at me, eyes just a little hazy, face deeply flushed.

 "Honestly, MacCready.. you're just _full_ of surprises, aren't you?" I quip.

  
He leans in, lips parting, and I abandon all thought, my eyes fluttering closed as he smashes his lips against mine, rough and passionate.

  
I pull back, panting. He leans in again, also panting. This time though, _I_ initiate the kiss, reaching up to grasp at his sleep mussed hair. He whines in enjoyment, and I slip my tongue in, desperate for more reactions, fueling his ever hardening arousal.

  
My tongue swipes his mouth, and I groan into the kiss as he starts stroking me again, pumping me slowly, at first, then with much more fervor. I'm so damned close, now, right at the edge, when he releases his grip.

  
"Why'd you _stop..?!_ " I whimper, and his grin is utterly shit eating.

  
"Beg.." he whispers, swirling his thumb around my nipple. " _Beg_ for me to touch you."

  
I hesitate. I've never begged in my life. I try to think of how I should sound. "Uhm.. fuck. Please?"

"Nope, gotta sound like you mean it." he murmurs teasingly.

  
"Oh, god.. _please!_ Fucking _hell_ , MacCready! Touch me.. I'll motherfucking _die_ if you don't touch me!" I plead.

  
Before I can blink, he's on me, again, tugging me under the covers with him. He grinds his cock against mine, precum oozing out over both of us, pooling in the covers and on the floor.

  
My cock is throbbing, and I buck up against him eagerly, nearing a mutual climax, when a sudden crash rocks the ground underneath the old shack, rattling the floorboards and shaking the walls. We both jump apart, tangled in the folds of the sleeping bags, and I fall back on top of MacCready.

  
"That sounded pretty bad. Maybe we should.. check it out?" he asks shakily. I sigh, nodding, and search for our clothes. I find my Explorer jacket and cargo pants, pulling them on, not bothering with a shirt; it's never winter for long in the Wasteland.

•••

"Hey, MacCready?" I call him softly. He hums in response. "What's your full name?"

  
"Uh.. Robert. Robert Joseph MacCready. But I still don't know _yours_ , Mr. Twenty Questions." he queries.

  
"Nah.. you'll think it's stupid." I protest.

  
"Oh, now I _have_ to hear it!" He crows.

  
"Fiiine.." I sigh. "If you absolutely _must_ know, my full name is Danté Avery Wood."

  
"You had a family, right? Before the war, I mean." he's caught me off guard.

  
"Well.. yeah. I had a wife. We had grown up together." I sigh, the pain welling deep in my heart, again.

 "And her name?" he asks.

  
"Uhm... Feline. Feline Mia Liams. I guess you could say we had been childhood sweethearts. She was.. beautiful, sweet, but had a bad attitude. She.." I have tears welling in my eyes. "She was killed. While we were in the Vault, Kellogg, a merc hired by the Institute, shot and killed her. He _murdered_ my wife, _stole_ our infant son, and the whole FUCKING _time_ I was trapped in that GODDAMNED _cryo_ pod." I am sobbing, but furious, nonetheless. I snap out of it, startled, when I feel a hand cupping my cheek.

  
"I'm so.. I'm so _sorry_ , Danté. I didn't know..." MacCready says in a husky voice. There are tears in his eyes, too. "I had a wife, too. Her name was Lucy. We had sort of known each other as children. I was the mayor of Little Lamplight, at the time. She was very shy. I got to know her better after I had packed up and left. We officially met at Big Town. We also had a son.. Duncan." he's got this heartbroken look on his face, and I reach up and stroke his hair.

  
"What happened to your son?"


	4. My Immortal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Here's the first part of the alternate reality. Feline wakes up and sees the world in ruins.

* * *

"Oh, _god_.." I gasp, desperately wanting to deny what had just happened.  I slam my hand against the pod's release button.  "Wake up!  Wake up.. _please_..."

•••

I've been wandering all day.  It's so hot out here.  I've regrettably stripped down to my bra, panties, and Danté's old bomber jacket.

I carefully sneak past the Boston Common, trying to make as little noise as humanly possible.  I'd heard rumors of something nasty living in the pond.

I catch sight of working neon signs.  "Goodneighbor, hmm.. _oh!_ I remember this place." I think aloud, honestly hoping it hadn't changed too much.  I pull open the heavy gates.

"Hold up, there.  First time in Goodneighbor?" demands a man in a gruff voice.  "Can't go around without insurance."

I'm growing impatient.   _What is_ with _this guy?_  I think to myself.  "You'd better _back_ off." I spit at him.

"Hey, now don't be like that.. you just look like someone who's in the market for a little insurance, is all.  Now, you hand over all you got in those pockets, or accidents start happening to ya." he pauses, sizing me up.  "Big.   _Bloody_.  Accidents."

A seemingly zombified man in a tricorner hat and a red leather coat strides around the corner, a greasy looking woman in metal armor and road leathers close on his tail.  "Someone comes into Goodneighbor for the first time, they're a guest.  You lay off that extortion crap." he drawls.

"She isn't one of us." the other man mutters.

"I said, let her go."

"You're soft Hancock.  You keep letting outsiders walk all over us.. one day, there'll be a new mayor."

"No love for your mayor, Finn?  C'mere, I wanna tell you something.." Hancock waves a hand, beckoning him closer.

Finn takes a step forward, tilting his head to hear him better.  Hancock draws a knife, and quickly stabs him three times in his ribs, Finn going down with a choked moan.

"C'mon, man, why'd you have to say that?  Breaking my _heart_ , over here." he frowns at Finn's now lifeless corpse, then turns to look at me.  I gulp.  "Sorry you had to see that.. you alright, Sister?"

Before I can stop myself, curiosity finally kicks in.  "Your face.  Something.. happen?"

"Like my _face?_  I think it gives me a sexy, King of the Zombies kinda look." He gestures a hand, showing himself off.  "Listen, lot of walking Rad freaks like me walking around here, so you might want to keep those questions on a low burner, next time.

"Goodneighbor's of the People, _for_ the People, you feel me?  No judgements."

"Sounds like anarchy." I muse.

"The best kind of anarchy.  Embrace it, and one day, you might just call this little slice of trouble home.. so long as you _remember_ who's in charge." and with that, Hancock opens the door to the State House, striding inside, his bodyguard looking me over one last time.

"Another player in Goodneighbor. Hello, little Pawn.. welcome to our fun and games." she says, and confidently walks into the State House, shutting the door behind her.

•••

I've walked into the back room of The Third Rail, and find myself mesmerized by a man in a tattered duster.  He's been bickering with a couple of sketchy looking guys, but I can't help it.. something about him just makes my stomach flutter.

"Look, lady.. if you're preaching about the Atom, or looking for a friend, you've got the wrong guy. If you need an extra gun.. _then_ , maybe we can talk." he says.

I shake my head, trying to pay attention.  "I'm interested.. _if_ you think you have what it takes." I quip.

He looks taken aback.  "You're kidding, right?  I've been doing this since I was a kid." he sniffs, frowning.  "I know my way around.

"What about you?  How do _I_ know I won't end up with a bullet in my back?" he eyes me suspiciously.

"You don't.  That's part of the risk, right?"

"Can't argue with that.. price is 250 caps.  And there's no room for bargaining." he stares down at me, looking me in the eyes.

"Everything's negotiable.. would you take 200?" I give him the best puppy eyes I can manage.

"You drive a hard bargain, but you just bought yourself an extra gun. Alright, Boss.. let's get out of here."


	5. Strawberry Fields Forever

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter marks the official start of the crossover. Drumroll, please?

Feline and I have been traveling for almost a week, now. We're on our way to Hangman's Alley; she had sent Strong there to hold down the fort, and I'm more than a little concerned that he's already 'decorated' the hideout with all kinds of gore.

"Hey, Feline?" I ask, looking down at her.  I notice a figure next to our Alley.

"Yeah?"

"Who's that?" I point at a man in a black pea coat leaning up against the Alley's junk walls.

"No need to worry 'bout me." he drawls in a British accent, stepping forward, lip quirking up in a wry smile.

"Where's that accent from?" Feline seems a little alarmed.

"Same place as me.. Liverpool."

"Do you have a name?" I ask.

"Yeah. 'S Jude." his smirk grows wider, and he reaches into his coat pocket, pulling out a cigarette and, lighting it, puts it to his lips, taking a long drag.

"Man.. I could really use a cigarette." I eye it jealously.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Creads just wants damn cigarette. A bit of a shorter chapter, but worth it.


	6. Something in the Way She Moves

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another one in MacCready's POV. Feline seems a little feverish.. or is that the wine talking? They get drunk off their asses, and Jude can't help but envy them.

"Ah, _cool!_  Amontillado!  I _know_ this brand.. c'mon.. _damnit!_ " Feline jumps up and down, in a futile effort to grab the wine from the top shelf of the aisle.

"You really _are_ vertically challenged, aren't you?" I tease.  She frowns, sticking her tongue out at me, and I let out an exasperated sigh.  "Move aside, I might be able to get that."

She steps aside, and I balance myself on the bottom shelf of the aisle, realizing that I wasn't too much taller than her, myself.

"Need a lift?" Jude asks in his heavy British accent.  I nod, and he kneels down behind me, clasping his hands together.  "Well? 'Re you going to step up, or _are_ ye?"

I carefully rest one foot on his hands, trying not to topple over, then use my other foot.  He lifts me up a bit higher, grunting as I lean over to grab the wine.

" _Finally_..  Now, let's get outta here!  I know a place where we can _really_ party."

•••

"Y'know.. I can't quite understand somethin'.  How can ya really be Pre War?" Jude asks Feline.

We're camping out at the Red Rocket Truck Stop; it seems well fortified enough, what with the changes she's made.  The hedge has been grown out like a giant leafy wall, every corner of the perimeter is blocked from view.  The only way in or out of the area is through a giant junk gate, and that's only assuming you can pick locks.  She's already taken a hit of Day Tripper, and seems almost ecstatic.  All three of us have been passing around the Amontillado bottle all night, and Feline just took the last swig.

"Oh, Jude.. I haven't told you?" she slurs, slumped against me on one of the red loveseat couches she'd dragged into the garage from God knows where.  "I was frozen in a Vault.  Which one was it..?" She pauses, rolling her eyes up to the ceiling in a lucid manner.  "Oh!  Vault 111."

I can't help but notice the bright blue flecks in her green eyes.  Her hair is so full, it pools around her head, almost like a silken pillow.   _Why am I noticing this now?_ I ask myself, and push the thoughts away.   _She's lost her_ husband.. _she wouldn't love me, not in a million years_. I discourage the idea.

" _Heyy_.. anybody in there, Cready?" I hadn't realized I had been staring.  She giggles, and pokes me in the nose.  "Ha!  Boop!"

I grin in spite of myself.  "I think you've had too much." I drawl, feeling a little tipsy, myself.

"'Fraid the joke's on you, I've drank _far_ more than this, 'n felt nothin' more than a light buzz." Jude smirks at us.  "Should I leave the two 'o you alone, now?"

Feline giggles again, raising a hand to play with my hair, twirling the messy strands around her finger, her cheeks looking pretty rosy.  "You like that, Cready?"

"Uhh.. are you alright? You're a little red." I try not to let my gaze drift down past her face, with a great deal of difficulty.

"Me..?   _Aww!_  You worried?" she has a look of mock surprise on her face.  "I didn't know you really _cared_.."

I stare back at her stupidly, the wine really hitting me, now.  She squirms a little in her bomber jacket (she has absolutely no modesty, she's always in her undies and that damned jacket, never anything else; she often complains about how hot it is), and before I can stop myself, I notice just how stacked she is.  "Damn.."

She lets out a gasp.  "You _perv!_  It's hot, in here.." she cries out, playfully slapping me across the face.  She doesn't lower her hand, just cups my cheek.  "Oh.. your eyes.  They're so _blue_."

I can't help but laugh.  Jude sighs, making his presence known.  "I'll ah.. I'm going up to the roof."

Feline looks up at me, eyes full of drunken wonder.  She leans in closer, lips parted slightly, eyes fluttering closed.  I have no idea what's happening; I just go along with it.

Her lips crush against mine, softer than I would have expected, and I sigh into the kiss, wondering what had been holding me back.  I grasp at her hair, slipping in my tongue.  She pulls back, panting a little.  I scoot closer to her on the couch, desperate for more affection.

"Woah, hold on.. just a sec." Feline murmurs.  I watch her intently as she slowly wiggles out of the bomber jacket, and I just gawk at her for a moment, drinking her in; the volume of her dark brown hair, to her full breasts, the curve of her tiny waist, to her wide hips.

"I'm feeling a little overdressed." I whisper.

"Well.. take it off, maybe?" she tilts her head, smiling up at me innocently, blue green eyes glazed over a little with ecstasy.

"You sure?" I ask honestly, searching her face for signs of rejection.  She nods, gulping.

I stand up, earning myself a dismayed whimper from Feline.  I reluctantly ignore her reaction, unbuttoning my duster.  I pull my undershirt up over my head, tossing it to the side.  She slides off the couch, padding up to me.  Arousal takes hold of me as she unhitches my pants, pulling them down past my knees.

" _C'monn_... take them off!" Feline complains, pouting.  I oblige her, pulling off my boots, then stepping the rest of the way out of my pants.  "That's better.."

She kneels down, running her hand over the crotch of my trousers.

I groan, already at half mast.  She reaches a hand under the fabric, and lightly runs a finger along my shaft, sending shudders of pleasure through my body.  She uses her free hand to tug off my underwear, and, leaning in closer, her hair brushing against my abdomen, uses her tongue to pleasure me, swiping along from the base to the tip.

I eagerly buck into her mouth, and she starts to lightly suck my cock, taking half of my length in, then back out, again.  " _Ohho_.. fuc.. _frick_.  Don't _stop!_ " I moan, thoroughly enjoying the sensation.

My dick is throbbing, and I feel a knot forming in my gut.  " _Ahh_.. f-fuck..! I think I'm gonna-" she brushes her teeth against the tip, and it's too late.  I come into her mouth, gasping.

Feline pulls back to gaze up into my eyes, licking her lips and swallowing like a hungry animal.  I take her hands in mine, pulling her up.

"That.. was _amazing_." I whisper, leading her to the office room.  She had dragged a mostly clean mattress and bed frame into the small room, and hung a Brahmin's heads over the wall the bed was pushed against.  She frees her hands from my grip, falling back against the bed in a swift motion, then reaches out to tug me down on top of her.

"Whoa, there.. aren't you tired?" I tease.  She says nothing, just tugs her panties off, and drags my hands down under her to the small of her back.  I slowly realize what she wants, and fumble with her bra, trying to unhook it as quickly as I could, pulling it off of her.

She whines, grinding eagerly against my leg.  I moan, and she drapes her arms around my neck, smashing her lips against mine.  My erection is returning, and I buck it into her, the moist warmth just making me grow even harder.

" _Ahh!_  Oh, _please_.. I want more..!" Feline pleads.  My head is swimming, and I thrust against her, feeling her vagina tremble a little.

"I hope this feeling lasts forever.." I sigh.

Her eyes flutter closed, and she moans softly.  "Cready, I think I'm going to.. I-I think I'm gonna come."

Before I can respond, I feel a wetness spurt around my cock, then a warmth.  I pull out, shifting backwards on the bed.  She makes a disappointed noise, glaring up at me.  I get down onto my stomach, and pull her towards me by the waist.

"What're you.. _mmm...!_ " she lets out a contented sigh, gripping the mattress as I tongue her warm wetness.

She's a whole new level of flavor, slightly salty, strangely sweet, and a thick tang, through and through.  I suddenly smell something new, but familiar.  An extremely sweet scent.  "What..? What's that smell? Is that.. _Mutfruit?_ "


	7. Bring Me to Life

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Let's return to Danté's reality. He and Creads hunt down Duncan's cure.

"You're _sure_ this is the place? It's _crawling_ with ferals." I guess I can't blame Danté for being more than a little nervous.

"The cure _has_ to be here." I take his hand, squeezing it gently. "I'm sure of it. Now let's just hope the information those guys gave me was correct."

I start lining up my shots, peering down my scope. I hear the crack of a Molotov hitting one of the ferals, followed by hysterical laughter.   _Great_.. I think to myself. _He's already taken some Fury_.

I lift the scope up to my eye, again, sighting down one of the stragglers he hadn't managed to catch in his line of destruction. I hold my breath for a moment, exhaling as I pull the trigger. The feral goes down with a sickening, guttural snarl.

We head inside, and I get him up to speed about the facility lockdown, telling him we'd have to find the executive terminal. He nods, and wanders a bit, flicking on the light on his Pip-boy. Once again, that almost mystical shade of blue is thrown out over our surroundings, and I can't help but be in awe for a moment.

We head down a short hallway, Danté looting anything not nailed down, when, suddenly, a feral drops through a gap in the ceiling, lunging at him. I know I should engage it, defend Danté, do _something_ , but no.. here I am, frozen in place, trembling like a f.. _freaking_ coward while the only person I've trusted in a long while, who I'm shamelessly enamored with is being clawed at with rotting hands. I swear, it's Lucy all over again.

I finally muster my courage, bashing the ghoul's head in with the butt of my rifle, then rush to Danté's side, shaking him by the shoulders. "Oh my god, _Danté!_ " I cry out, hating how helpless I had just been. "I-I'm.. I'm so sorry, how could I have been so _stupid!_ I should've just made you stay at Red Rocket.."

" _Hey_.. it's okay, I'm fine. Just got a little scuffed up, is all..." he reaches up to stroke my cheek, wiping something from it gently. _Had I been crying?_ "I'm only glad that thing didn't go for _you_ , instead."

•••

We had managed to get the cure, a small syringe labeled 'Prevent', and we're heading back to Red Rocket from Goodneighbor, having given Daisy the medicine; she promised us she had a reliable caravan she could trust to get it to Duncan.

We're camping out in Hangman's Alley, although we had to clear out a particularly jumpy Raider gang. They were in smaller numbers than most Raiders usually are, which, of course, made it easier than it would've been.

Danté hums a song I don't recognize, most likely Pre-War. I watch him as he happily binds his wounds, tying each bandage twice.

" _There's such a sad love, deep in your eyes, a kind of pale jewel_.." I sigh, enjoying the sound of his voice. " _Open and closed, within your eyes_..

" _I'll place the sky, within your eyes_.." Danté notices me staring, and wraps his arms around me, pulling me into a hug, rocking me back and forth.

" _There's such a fooled heart, beatin' so fast, in search of new dreams.. A love that will last, within your heart_.."

" _I'll place the moon, within your heart_.." he's pulling me towards the bed he's dragged up into one of the open-walled shacks, throwing our sleeping bags over it. I crawl underneath the covers, and he settles in to spoon me, murmuring the song into the back of my neck, sending shivers down my spine. I yawn, and sleep takes me into its depths once more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I agree with a couple other Fallout 4 fans; the factions should include our companions, more. And, I thought it would be fun for MacCready's past to be acknowledged, since Deacon is such a friggin' stalker. XD


	8. Underground

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Danté and MacCready search for the Railroad.

We've been searching the Common for an organization called the Railroad for the better part of the day. The Freedom Trail, nowadays dotted here and there with reeking heaps of garbage, skeletons, or the occasional Super Mutant camp, seems to have lead us to an old, deserted church.

"' _1R_ '.... Trail ends right at the church." I murmur, extending an arm out to MacCready. "After you."

We enter the church, and find only a few ferals waiting for us. We're trying to figure out where to look for the rumored Railroad, and MacCready finds a short hallway leading down a staircase and into an eerie tunnel.

"Watch out!" I warn him, unhitching my Deathclaw gauntlet from its case tethered to my pack. I slash at the Ghoul, earning the top of a head smacking against the wall and a splatter of gore. "Ugh.. that is fucking rank."

"Well, _that's_ why we don't use close-hand combat with the _deranged_. Although.." he winced, wrinkling his nose and choking back a gag. "This place doesn't exactly have much space for long-ranged attacks."

•••

"Stop right there!" A woman shouts. Danté had managed to work his seemingly endless intellect and entered the code phrase 'RAILROAD' on a large decoder ring on the wall of what had looked like a dead end in the creepy, old catacombs.

An umber-skinned woman with white hair shaved on one side points a Minigun at us, mouth curling at the edges in what can only be described as just short of a growl. "Not one.. more.. step." she snarls, adjusting it on her hip.

"Just who the Hell are you?!" the first woman, an older woman with longer, ginger hair, demands.

"We came here in search of the Railroad. We are not your enemy." Danté assures her, reaching back to secure his gauntlet back into its case. He raises his palms in a placating gesture.

A man with black, greased hair and a ratty old t-shirt and jeans comes up to her, stopping to stand by her side. His eyes are obscured by a pair of dark shades. "Deacon, where have you been?" She asks him.

"You guys are having a party, what gives with my invitation?" he drawls sarcastically, a broad grin spreading across his face. "Oh, it's you two!" he's looking right at Danté and I, his grin growing even broader.

"Uh.. do we know each other?" Danté looks completely lost, now.

"I didn't need to meet you to know who you are. You have made waves, pal." He lowers the shades, looking out at him over them. Danté raises an eyebrow. "We owe you a crate, hell.. an entire truckload of Nuka-Cola for what you did to Kellogg. We was our public enemy number one."

"You're vouching for them?" the redhead asks, eyeing Danté.

"Trust me, Dez.. we _need_ these two on our side. They're _kind_ of a big deal out there." He jabs a finger in my direction. "That one, for instance.. he's an ex-gunner. They don't take desertion all too well, and our public defender here helped him kill his former crew. One less issue down the road, especially if we want You Know _What_ , in _Which_ Place, back."

"I see. You two.." she addresses us. "I'll take it you know what a Synth is?"

"Oh, yeah. I know all about them." Danté replies.

"Then I'm sure you're aware that the Institute _uses_ them, treats them like property."

"That sounds like _slavery_." Danté frowns.

"Exactly. I am Desdemona, the leader of the Railroad. Our organization works to _free_ the Synths from their bondage, to give them a chance at a better life." the woman seems to be proud of her cause, while at the same time deeply saddened, all in the same breath. "There just one last question for you. The _only_ one that matters.

"Would you risk your life for your fellow man.. _even_ if that man is a Synth?"

"I once pledged to fight for the lives of my countrymen. I don't see this as any different." Danté has this faraway look in his eyes. _Is he.. he's going to break down_.  
I take his hand in mine, rubbing little circles with my thumb, and he squeezes lightly.

"A very noble answer.. but then, again. Why _have_ you come to find us?" the redhead wonders.

"My boy, Shaun, was kidnapped.. I've been searching for him." he manages to keep his voice mostly calm.

"Your son was stolen? That's horrible.. for your sake I hope he wasn't snatched up by the Institute." she says, looking genuinely worried, in spite of herself.

"Kellogg kidnapped him, after shooting my wife, Feline." a tear runs down his cheek. "He handed Shaun right to them."

"Oh, no.. we'll help you find your boy, I'll have Deacon look into it." Deacon straightens up a bit, at her acknowledgement. "If anyone can get the drop on them, he can. In the meantime, if you're looking to assist us, you can see Deacon for details.

"You are free to go." she smiles warmly, then disappears around a corner.


	9. Alien

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Danté does some cooking for MacCready. What more can you ask from your lover?

We're at the Red Rocket Truck Stop, for the first time in a short while. As per every time we spend the night here, Danté has that damned radio tuned to the Classics as loud as possible.  
Dogmeat scampers into the garage, claws clicking on the linoleum. I can smell Danté roasting something on the butcher spit outside, and from what I can hear, it sounds like a decent haul.

"Hey, RJ?" he shouts, trying his best to be heard over the radio, since he refuses to turn the stupid thing off.

I pad outside, wishing I had remembered to pull on my boots, or at least put some socks on. "What's up, Cowboy?"

" _Open_." he replies. I obey, and he puts a chunk of meat in my mouth, and I drool a little. "How's it taste? Good?"

I practically wolf it down, almost too hungry to savor the taste.

He chuckles.  "You were hungry, weren't you?" he smiles down at me, and reaches out to pull me close.

I rest my head across his chest, his heartbeat in my ear.  I sigh, smiling.  Suddenly, Dogmeat starts growling, and Danté reluctantly pulls away from me.  "Dogmeat!" he yells.  "What is it, boy?"

His question is answered when we hear a loud roar, and giant feet slamming against the broken road, shaking the ground beneath our feet.

"Oh, _shit!_  Deathclaw.. it's a _Deathclaw!_ " I shout, already shuddering at the thought of what might come of this encounter.  I steel my courage, running back into the garage to grab my rifle, checking the clip.

"I'll distract it.  You know the drill." Danté calls over his shoulder, searching through the crate of weapons, and pulling out a Chinese sword.

I rush to the storeroom, resting the barrel of my gun on a windowsill, and sight down the Deatchclaw.  I freeze; it's holding Danté up above its head, snarling.  He looks like he's either fainted or going to faint.  "Danté!  Oh _God_ , no!"

He reaches into his jeans, pulling out a pocket knife, and stabs the Deathclaw in its left eye.  That doesn't slow it down for long.

A girl runs up the hill, leaping onto the Deathclaw's back.  What the f.. hell? I'm astonished, not believing my eyes as she throws her arms around its neck, twisting violently until the beast collapses with a loud snap.

I immediately rush to Danté's side, checking for a pulse.  I gasp when I see his hand.  It's gone, seemingly lost in the struggle.  "Oh, _no_.." I gasp.

"Oh, _man_.. that looks bad." the girl mutters.  She turns to look me in the eyes, and I notice hers are black with gray, mechanized pupils.  "What?  You've never seen an Irregular?"

"You're a Synth?" now I'm honestly not surprised she managed to take down the Deathclaw in one go.

"Of sorts.  I'm a reassembled prototype, somewhere between the human looking Gen 3s and the experimental Gen 4as."

I am at a loss for words.   _The Institute never really knows when to stop_ , do _they?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so.. This marks my first official OC. Her name is Yasmin Hymara. She's not actually in the game, itself; more of an abstract concept I brought together from some of the fanfics I've read. She's got some qualities the Coursers posses, like the overwhelming brute strength. But, she's also got the sort of Gen 2a-ish eyes, and she has (not always, but often) to run diagnostics every so often. And don't worry, Danté isn't going to die. I would never do that to potential readers.


	10. Flightless Bird

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Danté overcomes his loss. The misfit Synth may just have what it takes to help.

I stare down at my hand in horror.  It's severed at the stump of the wrist.  "What.. _happened_ to me?" I choke out.

"That Deathclaw tore your hand clean off.  Honestly, considering how strong that thing was, you're lucky to be alive." the Synth muses.  I still don't understand how she can look mostly human, but still have those eyes.

"We can help him, right?" MacCready asks.  She nods, and smiles at me.

"I know a procedure that would improve his predicament significantly, but.. it'll take something directly from me."

"Woah, woah, woah.. _wait_.  What 'something' are we talking about, here?" MacCready looks more suspicious than concerned, at this point.

The Synth pulls off one of the brown leather gloves she'd been wearing, revealing a skeletal hand, much like those of the Gen 1s.

"Before we make any big decisions, there's one thing I _have_ to know.. just who and what _are_ you?" I sound harsher than I'd meant to, and almost regret it.

"My name is Yasmin Hymara.  I am a prototype, somewhere between the widely feared Gen 3s and a new model, Gen 4a.  I escaped with the help of.." she hesitates, as if debating the depth of the information she was sharing.  "a friend.  That being said, may I help you?"

I nod, not sure if there's anything I can say that would ever top what she had just told me.

She quickly looks away, and draws a screwdriver from one of the pockets in her overcoat, fiddling with her now exposed hand.  I hear a clicking noise, then a soft ringing as her hand falls from her wrist.  She looks back up at me, smiling again.  "Let me see your wrist, I must do some measurements."

I gingerly reach it out to her, and see the mechanisms in her pupils briefly glow amber, almost like she's scanning my arm.  A moment passes, then the light fades.  "So, uh.. what _did_ you do, exactly?"

"Your wrist is about four inches wide, two and a half thick." she looks at my wrist again.  "Luckily, I can adjust the grips on the wrist of the Gen 2 hand I was using."

"Wait, don't _you_ need it?" MacCready eyes the hand skeptically.

"I don't need it, I am still fully functional without." Yasmin tilts her head, and holds up the detached appendage.  "Besides, there are always more Gen 2s."

•••

I wake up, mind a bit foggy, and feel a slight weight on my arm.  I look around the room, MacCready smiling down at me from where he was sitting on my bed.

"Wake up, sleepyhead." he whispers.  "You've been out for _two_ days."

I sit up, and hold my new hand up, examining it, wiggling the skeletal fingers.  "It.. how does it know what to do?" I wonder out loud.

I hear footsteps, and Yasmin leans her back against the doorframe.  "I made a sort of.. control for it.  The band is around your head, not surgically attached, but you _are_ wearing it under your hair."

I put my other hand to my head, feeling around my scalp, and sure enough, I had a band encircling my head, from below my temples, above my ears, to the back of my head, the hair flowing over it. It felt like a heavy headband, and I could feel wires inside of it.

"I never could wrap my head around all this.. _science_ stuff." MacCready mutters.

I flex the fingers of my new hand again, still amazed at how functional it was.  "So.. do I....  Sleep with these things on, _or_.."

"You should at least take off the hand, before you sleep.  It's not meant to be attached when the wearer's brain is idle.  Hence, why the early model Synths do not sleep." Yasmin sighs.  "Test it out.  I realize you must want to do _something_ with that mercenary of yours."

I gently take MacCready's hand in mine, doing my best not to let my fingers pinch his.  He looks up at me, and smiles weakly, a single tear running down his cheek.  I furrow my brows, puzzled.

"I was such a coward.. if I had just _shot_ that monster... you wouldn't have lost your real hand." He looks down, sighing.

"Hey.. it's not your fault.  I should've held my ground.  It was reckless of me to take it on one to one." I murmur, using my natural hand to wipe away the tears from his face.  I carefully squeeze his hand with the prosthetic, and he smiles at me, looking me in the eyes again. I scoot closer to him on the bed, pressing a kiss to his forehead.

"Never.. never do that to me, again.  I was so scared..!" he whispers, burying his face in my shirt.

"I promise."


	11. As the World Falls Down

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A strange man named Jareth shows up in Goodneighbor; MacCready realizes a small, eccentric, short tempered animal is following him and Feline.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This will be a somewhat longer chapter.

Goodneighbor is always calmer at night.  I agreed to play the elusive role of the Silver Shroud; a Ghoul named Kent Connolly seems to think (despite the fact that the comic book character was male) I'd make a perfect hero.

I'm sweating so much in the black leather trench coat, and I deeply regret humoring him.

"You know.. you probably don't _have_ to wear that stupid costume.  You look like you're going to pass out." MacCready himself isn't wearing much, just a pair of ragged grey jeans and Kellogg's old gloves.

Jude shrugs out of his pea coat, huffing.  "'T won't help for me to wear so much, either.  'Sides.. I liked you better in that old jacket."

"First of all.. Jude, you're a perv.  Second, if I'm really going along with this stupid gig, I'm going all in." I frown, and lift my fedora to wipe the sweat from my forehead.

MacCready straightens up a little, listening to something.  I look around, hearing nothing unusual. "Could've sworn I heard something.." he mutters under his breath, sighing.

I hear a high male snickering, and catch a glimpse of orange fur and a period style outfit.  "What the.."

"I thought I heard something!" MacCready shouts, running in the direction I'd seen the small figure.  He grabs what looks like a tail, holding a small animal in a medieval noble costume upside down.  Out of the corner of my eye I see a shaggy white dog with gray ears and a saddle run past, tail between his legs.

"Let _go!_  LET ME _DOWN!_ " it shrieks, squirming and kicking MacCready in the arm.  "Unhand me _at_ ONCE!  Ambrosius!  Ambrosius, come _back_ here!  You're _embarrassing_ me!"

•••

"So.. who and what... exactly _are_ you?" MacCready asks.  The talking animal seems to have calmed down, as he's currently busy brushing himself off.

"I'm a Fox Terrier.  Sir Didymus, I swore on my life blood I would serve the King.  His Highness had asked me to follow you." he puffs out his chest, holding his snout high in the air proudly.

"Who exactly is this ' _King_ ' of yours, if ya don't mind my askin'?" Jude asks.

"You don't know of Jareth? The Goblin King?" Sir Didymus seems slightly offended.  "I shall take you to him!"

I stiffen, not completely sure of what to expect.  "Where is Jareth?"

•••

Sir Didymus has lead us into an alley behind the Hotel Rexford.  I'm so tempted to tell him it's a dead end, and MacCready looks about ready to quit, but Jude's convinced us to just see what happens.

"My fair Maiden, if you would be the first to walk through the barrier.." the Fox Terrier extends a paw, bowing me in.

I step forward, wondering what the fuck he meant.  "There's nothing here, Didymus.. it's just... _wall_." I sigh, crossing my arms over my chest.

He just flashes me a sly, toothy grin.  "Surely, fair Maiden, you cannot take _everything_ for granted." he makes a tsking sound.  "Not _everything_ is as it seems.."

I close my eyes, hold my arms out in front of me, feeling stupid, and take a few steps forward.  To my surprise, I don't run into anything.  I open my eyes, squinting to see in the dark.  I flick on the light on my Pip-boy, throwing my new surroundings in a deep blue glow.

I look around, bewildered.  We've walked into what seems like a whole new dimension; a medieval era town square, leading to a gated courtyard and a large, peculiar castle.  "Where.. where _are_ we?" I wonder.

"'Tis the Goblin City!  Mind the guards, Maiden." Sir Didymus cries joyfully.

"I think you've slipped something sketchy into my water, Jude.. this _can't_ be real, not by a long shot." MacCready mutters, eyes the City suspiciously.

"Wasn't me.  I'm not even high.  'Fraid this is happenin'." Jude says coolly.

"Well, well, _well_.. what've we _here?_ " a man with long, spiked hair, black and white eye makeup, groin-hugging tights and a leather jacket with an upturned collar smirks at us, laying suggestively across a macabre looking throne.


	12. Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An Asian teenager named Prudence is found snooping around the Cambridge Police Station. Sparks fly between her and Paladin Danse. Meanwhile, another teen by the name of Sarah shows up at Sanctuary, accompanied by a short and stout loudmouthed coward who calls himself Hoggle. Sarah seems convinced Hoggle is a fairytale character.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter from Danté's perspective. Don't want to leave him out so much.

"Why are we back here, of all places?" MacCready groans, glaring at one of the Brotherhood Knights guarding the perimeter of the Cambridge Police Station.

"I told you.. I heard rumors of someone sneaking around here, stealing shit, and rushing off before anyone could get a good look at her.  I'm honestly more worried about Danse than the assumed threat." I assure him.

Out of the corner of my eye, I notice a young Asian girl peering out at me from behind one of the barriers in front of the Police Station's main entrance.  I nudge MacCready.

"What's up?" he asks, looking up at me from beneath his hat.  I point at her, and he narrows his eyes.  " _That's_ the threat?  A girl?"

She glares daggers at him, and seems to pout a little.  I can't help laughing.  "Sorry about him.  He's harmless." I call to her.

"Maybe to you.  This one I can harm, I don't know her." MacCready grumbles, jabbing his elbow into my ribs.

"What's your name, anyway?" I ask, wincing.

"It's Prudence."

"Where're you from, Prudence?" a husky male voice asks.  I whip around, unsheathing my Deathclaw gauntlet, my Synth hand clicking against the grips.  I relax a bit when I realize it was only Paladin Danse, out of his Power Armor (for once), holding up his hands in a placating gesture.  "Jesus, _relax_ , soldier.  Taken one too many hits of Fury?  I thought I'd ordered you to _quit_ using Chems."

Prudence sighs, and steps out from behind the barrier, watching Danse curiously.  "Nowhere."

"And uh.. before nowhere?" MacCready asks, still eyeing her suspiciously.

"Ohio." she sounds annoyed, tearing her eyes away from Danse to glower at him again.

" _Ohio?_  I thought that place was destroyed when the bombs went off." I'm stunned.  I guess you really do learn something every day.

•••

Preston's called Danté back to Sanctuary.  Apparently another teenager had shown up, along with a weird looking dwarfed man.

"She said her name was Sarah, I think.  She calls the dwarf Hoggle." Preston informs Danté, leading us toward his old house.

"Mr. Wood.. oh, thank _heavens_ you're back, sir!" Codsworth exclaims, floating around the corner of the house.  "I'm afraid I can't _quite_ make sense of what's going on around here, as of late."

"Don't worry, Codsworth.  I'll do what I can." Danté assures him.

"Hoggle, do you think Jareth will find us, here?" a girl asks from inside.  I step through the doorway, looking around.

I see a homely little man standing in the hallway outside Danté's son's old room.  He's wearing a sort of period style outfit, and has a large collection of baubles and jewelry hanging from his belt.

"I hope he won't.  But if he comes, and Toby's a Goblin, don't say I didn't warn you." the dwarf replies sternly.  "And don't say 'It was a piece of cake.'  Because then, it'll be straight to the Bog of Eternal Stench."

I carefully sneak over to hear them better, crouching and doing my best to make as little noise as possible.

"Who's there?" the girl asks.

"Ah, sh.. _crap_.  Alright, you caught me.  I'm a mercenary." I sigh.

"What's your name?" she eyes me warily.  "Jareth, this had better _not_ be one of your disguises."

"Who is this ' _Jareth_ ', anyway?" Danté asks from behind me.  "If he's giving you trouble, I can help."

"I'd say so.  This one has a thing for helping people out.  Even if he is an _asshole_." Preston calls from the kitchen.

"Jareth.. the Goblin King." the girl hesitates, looking from me to Danté.  "He stole my baby brother, Toby, and he wants to turn him into one of them."

"What the fuck are you _talking_ about?!" I demand, regretting not curbing my swearing.  Danté chuckles next to me, taking my hand in his and stroking it with his thumb.  "Sorry.."

"It's difficult to explain.  I guess.. I guess if you really _do_ want to help me, we'll have to take you to him.  My name's Sarah, by the way, this is Hoggle; he's a friend." she waves a hand in the dwarf's direction.

"Hogwarts is a person?!  How's Harry doing?" Danté exclaims sarcastically.

"It's _Hoggle!_  And _don't_ say I didn't warn you!"


End file.
